Under the Mistletoe
by Butterfly of the Dusk
Summary: It had been obvious; obvious since the very beginning. Really, he shouldn't have underestimated her. A Christmas oneshot in honor of Victorique's birthday.


**A Christmas oneshot in celebration of Victorique's birthday. **

**Hope you enjoy! Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Merry Christmas! **

**Disclaimer-I don't own the rights to Gosick.**

**Well, for the setting, Victorique and Kujo decide to go back to the academy after their supposed marriage (I think they got married. I'm still pretty confused with what happened). **

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><p><em>Tick. Tick.<em>

As if it were a metronome, the clock patiently ticked away.

Across the room, a lonely girl stared into the empty nothingness. Her silvery tresses glinted, due to the sunlight that had permeated through the windows. The girl's vivid attire rustled about, hinting at her nervous anxiety. Yet, still, her eyes remained despondent; she, herself, radiating anguish.

Hesitant, her hand reached out, as if longing to grab someone else's. Her pipe, previously cradled in her palm was left forgotten as she shakily arose from her sitting position. Hiking her skirts up, her petite legs gained a will of their own, forcing the botanical garden surrounding her to appear as if it were a blur of color.

It had been obvious; obvious since the very second he had come up with the idea.

Yet, still, she had found herself plunged into this mess.

_Tick...Tock..._

_._

.

.

_~A Few Days Ago~_

.

.

.

It had started like any other day, his hands patting her silken hair, sedately awaiting her awakening. She had snuggled closer, her body pressing against his as a means for warmth.

Squinting, she had stared at the ticking clock across the room, relieved to see that it was only five.

Yawning, the girl had sat up in their bed. Yes, _their. _She still found it quite amazing that Cecil and the other staff members had approved of letting them share a bed, seeing as two students sharing a bed would be considered inappropriate in most other academies.

Rubbing her eyes, she had, rather lethargically, crawled away from her husband's warm embrace. Smiling, said husband mimicked her actions.

Yet, that was when their parallel actions ended, as the boy stalked off towards the bathroom and the girl proceeded to dress herself.

The clock ticked away.

_Tick. Tock. _

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><p>"I'm bored," Victorique huffed, her writing utensil falling to the floor.<p>

Class had long been over, and their homework had long been done.

Irritated and bored, she pointed at her spouse. "Go outside and get me a mystery."

Nervously laughing, Kujo looked away. The truth was, ever since their return to Saubure, Kujo's misadventures had become scarce, as the country was now in peace. Only ever so often could he find a mystery for Victorique. And, even then, they were the type that she highly disapproved of; the ones otherwise known as, 'The Cases Too Simple for Words.'

"What are you waiting for?" Victorique impatiently queried. "Go!"

"I have to go somewhere," the boy said. "I'll look for one on the way."

Giving her consent, she stared at the clock, noticing her reflection.

It had seemed lonesome.

_Tick...Tock...Tick._

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><p>The door creaked open, allowing a groaning man to enter the bedroom.<p>

With one eye, Victorique studied her intruder.

Their school uniform had been in great disarray, with paint splattering their blazer and sprigs of leaves being shed onto the floor. The figure's dusky, tousled hair was unkempt and their fingers seemed to be stiff and stuck together.

Deducing whom the infiltrator was had been all too simple.

Stretching her arm out, she gathered a few leaves and squinted to observe the specimens.

_Tick..._

..._Tock. _

She clicked her tongue in disapproval. Kujo's mystery was _much_ too simple.

* * *

><p>"I'm going." Kujo waved farewell.<p>

This routine had been going for three days, and Victorique was becoming increasingly desolate.

Grabbing his arm, she whispered, "Don't go."

Kujo had hesitated, unable to decide whether to leave or to stay by her side.

_Tick..._

"I'll be back," he promised.

"Don't go," she repeated, tightening her grip.

_...Tock_

"It's fine, Victorique. I'll be-"

"Why do you insist on holding that silly party?"

_Tick..._

Kujo didn't ask her how she knew; didn't query as to what had led the pieces of Chaos to be pieced together; didn't demand that she apologize when he had put a lot of hard work and effort into that so-called 'Silly Party.'

No.

Instead, gritting his teeth, he had walked across the threshold...and into the wintry night.

.

.

.

The girl was at her physical limit, panting as her rigid, trembling fingers came in contact with the burnished doorknob.

"Surprise!" her schoolmates, teachers, and acquaintances cried, jumping from beneath tables, behind chairs, and an assortment of other locations.

Victorique stared around her, studying the boughs of holly, festive ornaments, and the colossal Christmas tree, making it rather difficult to focus on her main concern. Although, it had been all too easy to spot him, seeing as his hair color greatly contrasted with the majority of the country's.

"Kujo!" she exclaimed, hoping that he would notice her.

He didn't so much as _flinch_ at her cry.

Deeply inhaling, the girl picked up her skirts once more and ran towards his direction. "Kujo..."

The boy turned, finally noticing her.

"I..." the girl paused, as she was never one to apologize so easily. "I was right; this was a silly party."

The boy's expression grew steely.

"But...I appreciate your effort. I...commend you." Embarrassed, she looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

Kujo stifled a laugh, finding this sight quite cute. "So, you like it."

"No, I don't!" Victorique pouted. "It's just that-!"

Kujo stared at the ceiling, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Mistletoe."

"Mistletoe-?" Sh turned around to face him, a bewildered expression plastered on her face. When his words finally sunk in, her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet.

Leaning down, her husband stared at her lips. "Happy Birthday, Victorique."

As their lips met, the clock ticked, pulsating like the beating of their hearts.

_Tick...tock..._

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><p><strong>I apologize if any part of this seems rushed or OOC, because I, not only procrastinated, I also didn't have the plot for this story until...a few days ago. And, I wrote most of this on December 24. So, sorry. <strong>

**Hope you enjoyed, hope you have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, a fun Kwanzaa, and a Happy New Year! **

**Please review when you have the time. Thank you very much for reading this. **


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